Symphony in Blue
by Cyanne
Summary: Indigo has a secret...


DISCLAIMER: RAINBOW BRITE, RAINBOWLAND, AND ALL CHARACTERS  
CONTAINED THEREIN ARE THE PROPERTY OF HALLMARK, INC. I.E. I DO NOT  
OWN THEM. I AM NOT RECEIVING ANY PROFIT. THIS STORY IS INTENDED  
SOLELY FOR THE ENJOYMENT OF FANS OF THIS WONDERFUL EIGHTIES SHOW.  
TITLE IS TAKEN FROM THE KATE BUSH SONG OF THE SAME NAME.  
  
  
Author's Note: This work is the result of thinking WAY too much about the Rainbow Brite  
characters as a kid. I do like a good character study, though, and am rather proud of this one.  
That being said, there are a few things I must explain about my Rainbow Brite world. 1) Rainbow  
and the Color Kids age. If you're not a fan of that, you've been warned. 2) This story presupposes  
my own personal bias that Patty and Buddy are/were/will be/might have been/should be a couple.  
3) Things are not always happy in Rainbowland.  
  
Still interested? Good. I present....  
  
  
  
  
SYMPHONY IN BLUE  
  
  
A Confessional by Indigo   
  
  
(transcripted by Cyanne)  
  
  
  
  
"I spend a lot of my time looking at blue  
The color of my room and my mood  
Blue on the walls, blue out of my mouth  
The sort of blue between clouds when the sun comes out  
The sort of blue in those eyes you get hung up about..."  
(Kate Bush, "Symphony in Blue")  
  
  
My name is Indigo. I am one of the seven original Color Kids. I get along with all of  
them, but I feel I have never truly fit in. Maybe it's my color, halfway between blue and violet,  
destined for limbo, never really belonging anywhere. Sometimes I feel like that, that I don't belong  
anywhere. But I know that cannot be true. Rainbowland is my home, I am needed here as much as  
anyone else. But sometimes, I feel very alone.  
  
My loneliness can be summed up in a single sentence: I love Buddy Blue, and he doesn't  
love me. His heart belongs to Patty O'Green. Everybody knows that now, but once I didn't know.  
I used to hold onto this small belief, deep inside me, that someday, he would notice the dark, quiet  
girl standing in the corner, who was so unlike the other girls, who didn't quite fit in. Well, of  
course he noticed me, but never in the way I dreamed he would. We are colleagues, we regularly  
work together on the various shades of blue and indigo around Rainbowland and the Earth. He  
respects me for my talent and dedication to my color, and we work well together. He always  
applauds loudly at all the plays I perform, and tells me I was great, even if I stumbled onstage or  
flubbed a line or two. He once told me I was sweet, and the smile he gave me then I have never  
forgotten. But that is all. He loves Patty, he is bound to her forever. I have to accept that, and  
yet...it is not enough.  
  
I've decided to write down some of my story, such as it is. Like a diary, but more of a  
confession. I want to get all my innermost feelings out of my head and someplace they won't drive  
me crazy. I've been rather distracted lately, everyone has noticed; yesterday Rainbow even asked  
me if there was anything she could do, as if I had a cold or something. How can I tell her that my  
illness, such as it is, is simply due to disappointment?  
  
But there I go, rhapsodizing again. I sometimes think I do too much of it, and therein lies  
my trouble. Back to the subject.  
  
When did I first start loving Buddy? I'm not sure exactly. One day I felt a closeness  
between us, something special that I had not noticed before. Our colors were so close,   
dark blue and light blue, two hues of the same shade. I felt he should have noticed this, that  
we had a connection, a similiarity that begged for attention. I almost said something, called   
attention to this magical closeness, then didn't, out of cowardice, a cowardice I had never  
displayed before. Contrary to legend and rumor, I am not totally shy and timid. I have my own  
thoughts, my own visions, my own ideas. I just don't waste them. I keep them to myself,  
cultivating them carefully, to see if they bear fruit. I am cautious, hoarding my thoughts and  
feelings, doling them out in small amounts, testing the waters. I don't want to risk my precious  
feelings on a rocky landing.  
  
Buddy doesn't know how I feel, and he will never know. But I think Patty has always  
known. I think girls can always tell what other girls are thinking; it comes naturally to us. And  
nothing comes more naturally than keeping tabs on other girls, just in case. It sounds cynical, but I  
have come to believe it. It explains so much of other girls' behavior, and my own. You see, I  
know Patty better than any of the other girls in Rainbowland, even though we have never been  
close friends. I can't help it. Some jealous, morbid, tragic part of me is avidly interested in  
everything about her, from the way she fixes her hair to the way she stands on her tiptoes to kiss  
Buddy lightly on the mouth to say goodnight. (I saw them once, when they thought no one was  
looking, the way I see most things. I saw Buddy kiss her back, but on the cheek, as he is always  
self-conscious when showing affection in public. I have learned this from watching them).   
  
I want to know why he is drawn to her. She would not be described as pretty; she has  
freckles and fair skin that burns to cherry red in the summertime, or when she gets embarrassed.  
She is shorter than anyone else, except the sprites, and she reminds me of a young colt (I know  
about baby horses because Sunriser foaled last winter; the colt's name is Sunbeam, and Rainbow is  
planning to give her to Baby Brite when they both grow old enough). Colts are unsteady and  
bewildered on their feet, and to say that about Patty is something of an understatement. She has  
been permanently excused from kitchen chores (which we take turns doing) due to the large  
amount of dishes, cups, and pans she has dropped, chipped, cracked, or scrubbed raw. I know  
this bothers her, but she pretends it doesn't. She is very self-conscious about her clumsiness, and  
nothing gets her angrier than a dig about her lack of coordination. When she was younger, she  
always had scrapes on her knees from falling down while running, or tripping or something.  
(Recently, she wised up and started wearing pants instead of skirts).   
  
Patty is also very outspoken, often to the point of being rude. She has no tact at all, even  
Buddy knows this and covers for her when something slips out. She prides herself on being direct  
and forthright, but she often hurts people's feelings without even knowing it, then becomes  
defensive when called on it. Her temper is almost as bad as Stormy's, only Patty cannot summon   
lightning bolts with her hand, which is a very good thing because if she did, we'd have a lot of  
singed objects lying around. When Patty gets mad, her face goes bright red, her eyes tear up, and  
she looks like she's five years old. And acts like it too.   
  
As you you read this, you may be thinking that I must hate Patty. But I don't. It is most  
certainly jealousy on my part that colors my impression of her, even though I think even Buddy  
would agree with at least some of what I have said. She has her faults, but so do I. I'm too scared  
to tell Buddy how I feel, and so I just sit in a corner, watching enviously and pointing out the  
faults of the girl he's chosen instead of me. It's perhaps for this reason that we have never been  
close friends; I cannot forgive her for loving Buddy, and she cannot forgive me for wanting his  
love. For all her lack of tact, Patty is certainly not dense. But she has never said anything to me,  
and I have never said anything to her. It is enough that we both know it. Perhaps she resents me,  
too.   
  
(I've never told anyone this. It's scary, to see the words on this page, they seem so final,   
indelible. I can erase them if I choose, but I don't want to. I want to write this down. I want  
to have it validated, for myself only, if for no one else.)  
  
No, I don't hate Patty. I used to think she didn't deserve Buddy, but over the years, I have  
seen sides of Patty that I didn't believe could exist. No one will fight harder for her friends, no  
matter the odds. She always keeps her word, she does not lie, and she would never be  
intentionally cruel to anyone. She loves her work and her color, she loves the Earth and its  
teeming life. She loves Buddy with all her heart, and though she may occasionally hurt him on  
accident, no one suffers for it more than she. She may always speak her mind, but she also speaks  
from her heart.  
  
When I remember this, I cannot begrudge her Buddy's love. Because, although she would  
never admit it, there is a vulnerability in Patty, a yearning to be loved, that Buddy responds to and  
fulfills. That's why I can't hate her, I have this same yearning. We all do. I just wish I had someone  
like Buddy to make me feel whole. I guess I do need someone to love in my life, even though I  
would prefer to believe I don't. So Patty and I are more alike than either of us know.  
  
This confession was supposed to be about my feelings for Buddy, but it has become more  
of an exploration of my feelings towards Patty. But that makes sense, since Buddy and Patty are  
bound together; they complement each other, like a package. It truly is a beautiful thing, a shame  
to mar it with my own petty jealousy. I want to be happy for them, to smile when I see them  
together like everybody else does. Someday I will. And when I do, I can truly be happy myself as  
well.   
  
FIN 


End file.
